


and your exit calms me down

by Lo Turner-Kane (doujinbag)



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hangover, M/M, Oneshot, alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 15:05:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3415247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doujinbag/pseuds/Lo%20Turner-Kane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>before it infuriates me.</i><br/> </p><p>Miles doesn't understand why Alex isn't in his bed when he wakes up, until he suddenly remembers everything that happened the night before. Understanding why doesn't make his situation any better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and your exit calms me down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pengoop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pengoop/gifts).



> I'm gifting this to Sam because I love her and she promised to get me a club penguin membership when we're old and rich bye

_If you just get it together and read my mind_  
_Then sleeping would be easy_  
_And then I'll be there to acquiesce_  
_I confess I'm in trouble_

 

Miles is still sweating when he wakes up.

He groans as he wraps himself further and further into the duvet, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. Last night was brutal, he knows. He’s going to have a hell of a fucking hangover.

With his head still buried in the covers, he moves his hand to graze over the one, two, three, _four_ dark hickeys lined up perfectly parallel to his collarbone. He swears he can still feel Alex’s nails scratching lines down his back, his fingers digging dark circular prints into Miles’s hips.

 _“Alex,”_ he whispers, unrolling himself from the oversized duvet. His eyes still closed tightly, he reaches an arm out to caress his boyfriend in the spot on the bed where he always sleeps. Miles’s eyes open and his fingers meet empty air. Alex isn’t in his bed at all.

Miles doesn’t make a sound. Not a cry, not a sigh, not a single breath leaves his lips. He sits up, rubs his sleep-burdened eyes with the heels of his hands, then proceeds to place his whole head in his hands. Beads of sweat mixed with a little something else glue the sheet to Miles’s bare chest, making him feel sticky and overheated and dirty as a whole. His bed smells like tears and sex and _oh, god,_ Alex.

His bed smells like Alex.

 

_Another afternoon of increments_  
_And asking the wrong questions_  
_Then you get up and leave again_  
_Just as the evening threatens to set_

Miles feels his hangover punch him in the gut out of nowhere, forcing him to scramble up from the bed and dash into the bathroom just in time for him to throw up. His arms clutch the white toilet bowl as his body forces the overload of last night’s concoction of vodka, red wine, and god knows what else out of his body. His idea to drink and drink and drink until he couldn’t even remember his own name last night probably wasn’t the best idea, unless he was purposely trying to kill his liver. Maybe he was. He can’t remember what, exactly, was going through his head last night. All he knows is Alex isn’t here like he should be and he feels like shit and none of this is right, it’s all out of fucking place.

 _Where is Alex?_ Miles wonders to himself once he’s positive he’s done throwing up. He sits on the tile of the bathroom floor and leans his head back against the sink cabinet, pressing his fingers to his temples in an effort to remember what happened, _what’s happening?_

It only takes one look up at the broken bathroom door for him to remember. And now, he remembers it all.

 

_Consider this now it's not too late_  
_I have watched you change_  
_The colour of the trap_

_“Al, where ‘re ye goin’?”_

_“’m leavin’, Miles.”_

_“What–_ why? _What did I do?”_

_“You didn’t do an’thin’.” Alex zipped up his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder, refusing to make eye contact with Miles. He stared at the floor, the wall, the fucking houseplant he and Miles both forgot to water until it died. Why the hell didn’t Miles throw it out already? Why couldn’t he fucking let go of anything? “I jus’ can’t do it anymore.”_

_“But why? What happened t’make ye feel like this, Al?” Miles reached out a hand to graze Alex’s shoulder, but the other male ripped his body away from him, popping up his jacket collar as he finally gave Miles a glare. Miles could see that something in Alex’s eyes died; they didn’t shine when he looked at him the way they used to so long ago._

_“I jus’ can’t.” Alex shook his head and gave Miles one last sad look before sighing and disappearing out the front door for the last time._

_Miles drowned himself in alcohol, nearly passing out on the kitchen floor twice before forcing himself up and into his room. He nearly ran into the wall and managed to break the handle off the bathroom door as he stumbled into the bedroom, tears staining his cheeks. He needed to feel something other than this hurt. How had Alex changed his mind about loving him so fast? Only three days prior, they were laughing and smiling as Alex amorously fucked Miles into blissful oblivion._

_Miles needed Alex here with him. Why didn’t he just run after him? He was too fucking scared. Ironic, isn’t it? He knew he’d always been a coward. This just proved it worse._

_He fell asleep with a disgusting sort of sticky heat covering his hand, his stomach, his thighs. All he could do was merely moan Alex’s name repeatedly and pray he’d be back in the morning._

_I have learned to wait_  
_Most of the things that you say_  
_I don't understand but I will sit and listen_  
_I nod along attentively_  
_But the truth is I cant concentrate_

Miles doesn’t want this to be true, he doesn’t want any of this to be true. He impels himself up off the floor and turns the water temperature up so hot that he lets out a quiet scream, feeling as if his skin is melting off his body. He scrubs and scrubs and scrubs himself clean until he doesn’t even feel like he exists anymore. _Good,_ he thinks.

He wraps himself in a towel before trotting back to the room and curling up helplessly on the bed. He doesn’t want to cry. He’s not going to cry. He’d be a stupid fucking twat if he cried right now.

He buries his face in Alex’s pillow, inhales, and sobs.

_I have learned a way, make no mistake_  
_I have learned to wait and learned you can make me_  
_I need something to sort me out_  
_I need someone to come and shake me_

 

He doesn’t know how long he lies there for, but it feels like three hours or longer. He doesn’t get up on will first; what makes him stir is the sound of the front door slamming loudly. He doesn’t acknowledge it in any way but by moving his head slightly. If someone’s breaking into his flat, great. He doesn’t give a damn.

_“Miles?”_

Miles snaps his head up immediately. That can’t be Alex’s voice, but it _is._ Somehow, Alex is here, he’s home, he’s back where he should be…

…but he left, didn’t he?

“Miles, ‘re y’here?”

Miles doesn’t make a sound. He hides himself further under the duvet that desperately needs to be cleaned and holds his arms across his chest, still burning up from the shower.

Soon enough, Alex appears in the doorway of the bedroom, his eyes flooded with emotion. _So different from last night._ “Oh, god, Mi, ‘m so sorry.” Alex drops his duffel bag on the floor and crawls into the bed with Miles, immediately holding his arms around him.

“Don’t,” Miles warns. “The bed, it’s… messy.”

“I don’t care.”

“I’m fuckin’ naked, Al.”

“I don’t fuckin’ care.”

Alex presses his face into Miles’s neck and breathes him in, letting his scent take over every internal inch of his body. He can still smell the alcohol on him despite Miles’s brutal, unforgiving shower, but he _doesn’t fucking care._

“’m no’ gonna leave y’ever again,” Alex promises. “’m sorry. ‘m sorry. Shit happened. I shoulda talked t’you instead o’ walkin’ out. ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, Mi. ‘m so sorry.”

Miles gives in and holds him right back, hands traveling up through Alex’s dark hair. “I didn’t know what t’do,” he says. “I… I couldn’t _breathe_ when ye left.”

“I know. I know, Mi.” Alex refuses to let go, his arms merely pulling Miles even closer. “Bu’ ‘m stayin’. ‘m not gonna leave you again. I promise, I _promise.”_

_And your exit calms me down_  
_Before it infuriates me_  
_Oh, I'm in trouble_  
_Wish you'd just get it together and read my mind._

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://spookymileskane.tumblr.com) / [instagram](http://instagr.am/and.a.smile)


End file.
